


On 2

by d_e_marcus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancer Castiel (Supernatural), Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Sexy Castiel, jealous!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_e_marcus/pseuds/d_e_marcus
Summary: Cas dances his way into Dean's heart.





	On 2

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for Destiel Promptober 2017. The word of the day is "graceful."

"See the brunette in the sparkly red dress dancing with Danny Devito's twin? Way over there."

Sam pointed to the corner of the room. Dean sifted through the couples on the dance floor until he spotted her. He let out a low whistle.

"Ay carumba," Dean crooned. "Wouldn't mind gettin' wrapped up in that burrito, if you know what I mean." 

"Dean, c'mon, pay attention.” Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure the necklace she’s wearing is carrying the enchantment. All we have to do is burn it with the other ingredients and the spell will be lifted.”

“And then the witch is done?” Dean asked. “C’mon, Sammy, it can’t be that easy.”

“No, we’ll still have to deal with the witch tomorrow, but at least nobody will turn into a murderous robot tonight.”

“Okay, grab the necklace and light up some matches – got it,” Dean summarized. “And how exactly do you plan on getting the necklace? There’s a dance competition going on right now, you can’t just walk up and – ”

Sam’s eyebrows reached epic heights as he stared over Dean’s shoulder, transfixed. When he looked, Dean didn’t know whether to laugh or run away screaming.

Castiel stood before them, dressed in black polyester bell-bottom pants and a tight purple shirt with flowy sleeves and a ridiculous number of sequins. Pinned across the front of his shirt (if you can call it that), is a competition bib, #2183.

“Cas,” Dean wheezed. “You look like you’re ready for  _Dancing with the Stars_ , man.”

“I do not understand that reference, Dean,” he replied, resigned. “We need to get that necklace and since both of you dance like cows in China, I will be the one infiltrating the dance floor.”

Sam finally recovered from shock and explained the “bull in a China shop” phrase Cas butchered before asking him if he obtained the necessary ingredients for their impromptu necklace barbecue.

Dean couldn’t care less about the botched reference, he’s still stuck on Cas  _dancing_. In that ridiculous outfit, no less. Does his shirt really need to be unbuttoned  _that_  much?  

“Wait – Cas,” Dean interrupted. “Are you saying you know how to dance?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“Like that?” Dean waved an irritated hand toward the dance floor.

“I’ve studied several types of dance, Dean,” Cas said, sounding vaguely annoyed. “Salsa On2 happens to be a favorite of mine. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Cas handed Sam a small drawstring bag and glided toward the dance floor, not looking the slightest bit perturbed. Dean’s face scrunched in a mix of horror, confusion and interest as he watched Cas tap mini-Danny Devito on the shoulder.

“Can he do that?” Dean asked.

“Uh, yeah…I think so,” Sam said. “I think it’s just free form right now, so they can change partners for practice.”

“Swingers, huh?” Dean smirked at his own joke. “Well, here’s to hoping Cas doesn’t crash and burn.”

Dean’s attention returned to the dance floor where Castiel was most definitely not crashing, nor burning. The two dancers moved with ease, getting used to each other and the tempo. Before long, they were weaving a sensual web of fancy footwork, dazzling twirls and caressing hands. If Dean didn’t know for a fact that dancer was  _actually_  Castiel, he would have assumed they had a shapeshifter on their hands.

Dean eyes, alight with amazement, followed Castiel’s graceful form across the dance floor and back again. The lights were down low, casting shadows on Castiel’s face. Music reverberated around the room, drawing Dean into a trance as he marveled at the sight before him. Castiel not only had moves, he exuded a sexual confidence that penetrated the room. Dean knew he wasn’t the only person in the room captivated by the man with stunning blue eyes and bed head hair.

“Cas has got some moves, huh?” Sam asked as he pawed through the contents of the drawstring bag, sneaking curious glances at Dean.

“Yeah, he’s uh…” Dean was surprised at the huskiness of his own voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. “He’s, uh, really good.”

Dean watched in silence as the pair finished up the dance. The sound of clapping snapped Dean out of his trance. He wondered how long he’d been staring.

“Alright, alright, let’s slow things down with a bit of Kizomba, ladies and gents!” The DJ’s voice boomed through the speakers as a slower and more sensual tune began.

“Uh oh,” Dean nudged Sam, worried. “Do you think he knows this dance? Should we just go grab the necklace?”

“No, we can’t – the witch could be watching.” Sam said. “We need to let Cas do his thing so he can get the necklace without drawing any attention.” Sam shrugged before he continued, “Besides, I’m sure he can improvise.”

Dean didn’t have to worry much longer because Cas was already wrapping his partner up in his arms, pulling her in closely and slotting their hips together. The pair moved slowly, oh so slowly, shifting from one side to the other, grinding against each other.

There was something about Cas that was just so magnetic. Dean had experienced that pull many times before tonight, but this was different somehow. Seeing Cas move like that was…hell, it was sexy. And Dean had never  _ever_  associated the word ‘sexy’ with his dorky and awkward angel. It painted Cas in a whole new light, especially now that he’s human….more on Dean’s level.

Dean was suddenly hot around the collar. “This isn’t dancing, it’s sex on a dance floor!”

It was obvious Sam was trying not to laugh at Dean’s discomfort, but he was too focused to care.

“Aww, Dean,” Sam teased. “Don’t be jealous. I’m sure Cas can teach you how to move like that if you ask nicely.”

“Jealous! I’m not – ugh, I’m not jealous!" Dean sputtered. As an afterthought, he added, “Bitch.”

 Sam chuckled and gave Dean a sideways glance. “Jerk.”

“You know what? This is stupid.” An annoyed growl left Dean’s mouth as he marched towards the dance floor. "I'm just gonna go get the damn necklace myself."

Sam caught up to him before he had the chance to charge Castiel and his partner.

“Dean, wait,” Sam said as he grabbed his brother’s arm. “Cas is working on it, look.”

Dean didn’t have to look, he had stopped dead in his tracks when he made it within 20 feet of them. Cas’s left arm was wrapped low around his partner’s waist, settling in the small of her back, pushing her hips into his. His right arm skated over her shoulder blade and slowly inched up toward the back of her neck. The blood rushed to Dean’s cheeks. He didn’t want to watch, didn’t want to see Cas like this, but he couldn’t look away.

Cas’s long, thin fingers toyed with the clasp on the necklace as he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered. She practically melted in his arms, which gave Cas the leverage he needed to silently unclasp the necklace, move it over her shoulder and drop it on the ground. In one swift movement, he grabbed her leg just above her knee, pulled it up to his hip then turned them around, kicking the necklace toward the edge of the dance floor as he went. Somehow, he managed all that without taking his eyes off Dean. Castiel didn’t need his angel abilities to read Dean’s mind because right now, Dean's pretty sure the look on his face said it all.

Sam lunged forward, snatched the necklace and took off toward the back door. He could handle the spell breaking on his own – and he probably didn't want to watch his brother spontaneously combust from eye sexing a former Angel of the Lord. Dean was rooted to the spot, his gaze locked onto Castiel’s striking blue eyes.  

He didn’t move when Castiel released his dancing partner to another.  

He stood, paralyzed, as Castiel slowly slinked toward him like an animal on the prowl. 

And Dean – stubborn, oblivious Dean – still didn’t move when Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, pressed his lips to Dean’s ear and whispered: “Do you want to dance, Dean?”


End file.
